The other evening we revisited a campground pub/restaurant down the road apiece to which we had taken my daughter when she was out this summer. It was very crowded the first night we visited; we had to fight our way to the bar for 15 minutes and to a table for two hours. Marc and I decided to start earlier now that summer is over and see if things had calmed down. We arrived in time to make it to have a cold beer sitting at the bar with no problem and also obtained a table before 5 p.m. We did note a good crowd that started arriving at 5 so figure the key is to get there early. As in many things in life, the early bird gets the worm as they say. The Friday night fish fry is decadently unhealthy and they remain open all year excepting for the month of December so I convinced Marc we need to return some evening when it is snowing and we can sit in front of one of the two fireplaces having the place almost to ourselves no doubt, as we imbibe some Irish coffees. After all; the campground closes soon.
Wisconsin is unusual by western state standards for places like this; places tucked away into old houses, back in the woods, off the beaten track yet somehow eking out a living for the proprietors off of word of mouth alone. Neighborhood bars and pubs where beers are cheap and Friday’s always feature fish fries and Sundays prime rib. They are so ubiquitous as to almost be a defining characteristic of the state; a very endearing one actually. I always wonder just who drives miles out into the country to visit these places anyway? Obviously, the neighbors.
Leaving the campground I asked Marc to turn right instead of left (out to the highway) and we wandered down this small rural lane leading into a subdivision. To our surprise we came across a couple of lakes, both with small boat launches and several cabins and vacation homes on the surrounding shores. It was peaceful, quiet and beautiful so I decided to return on Sunday which was marvelously sunny and warm, to take some fall pictures.
It still amazes us that there are places like this hidden away, merely a mile or two from our house that are unknown to us. Never have we been in a state with more roads and highways or more lakes and waterways. Never is there a more beautiful season to see it than now. It takes awhile to develop an appreciation for the change of seasons here but if you're going to live in this state there is no other choice. Mere days away, that sunny Sunday has faded; temperatures have dropped, the wind is up, clouds scuttle across the sky and leaves fall and dance along the ground; all signs of an approaching winter too soon to be here.